


The 21st Year

by akaihoshi



Series: As The Years Go By [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Can be read on its own, Drama, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Forced political engagement, Happy Ending, M/M, Not Beta Read, Post-Canon, Post-RD, i wrote 5k of smut help, plot starts in chapter 2, prequel to the 99th year, the rating is entirely for the smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-26 05:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15656367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaihoshi/pseuds/akaihoshi
Summary: "I've won two wars, brought down a mad king and a goddess... and that's still not enough?!" Ike's voice cracked as he spoke.Soren said nothing, head hung low. They'd been too preoccupied fighting the battles in front of them than preparing for the political struggles ahead of them. Ike might be the most powerful man on the entire continent, but he couldn't fight his way out of an arranged marriage to the Queen. Those insipid nobles had backed them into a corner.They were trapped.





	1. The Tower

**Author's Note:**

> Alright kiddos, time to... go back in time!
> 
> This is the long-talked about prequel to The 99th Year. You DO NOT need to read 99th to understand this one, and you don't need to read 21st to get 99th... get me? They're the same timeline, but can be read on their own.
> 
> IMPORTANT - this first chapter is just an intro to give background to the relationship and events leading up to the plot. Plot actually starts in chapter 2.
> 
> This fic is about events immediately after the canon events of RD and my thoughts on how Ike and Soren's relationship blossomed over time. 
> 
> I also have SO MANY thoughts about Ike. For being the main lord of his own game (2 technically), his personal growth story I feel like is really glossed over in favor of everything else. The only real clues we get as to his own personal emotional development are his slow descent into so Done(tm) with everything by RD, and the fact that he just pisses off after the game without so much as a goodbye. Poor guy probably has intense PTSD after watching his parents get murdered, then having to shoulder the weight of an entire country at 17, followed by rebuilding and then having the shoulder the weight of the whole world by 21. He never wanted to be a hero, he just wanted everyone to be ok.
> 
> A lot of the character analyses I've read on Ike and Soren are almost always about how Ike heals Soren but I wanted to explore the ways in which Soren heals Ike. The 21st Year is, in a way, Ike's story (although it's mostly through Soren's eyes) and The 99th Year is Soren's story.
> 
> Anyway, there's no way Ike came out of PoR/RD perfectly fine and dandy. Hes just as broken as Soren is if not more so, and that's why I wanted to write this series.
> 
> I seriously hope you guys enjoy this.

It started with a touch.

Small movements; a hand on Soren’s back, fingertips brushing Ike’s forearm, legs accidentally bumping into each other under the table during strategy meetings. Subtle acts of reassurance to let each other know that they weren’t alone.

As missions grew more difficult and the situation surrounding the war grew dire, the more they craved physical contact, especially in situations where it was impossible to touch without drawing too much attention. The longer they remained at war, the more they sought each other out, eyes skimming the camp for the other should they find themselves alone.

Ike especially hated solitude. When he wasn’t otherwise engaged in mingling with his soldiers, he always found himself drifting towards wherever Soren happened to be.  Soren would be waiting for him whether he happened to be in the merchant’s tent, managing the supplies, or simply going over maps in his own tent. Ike would settle down nearby with barely a grunt as a greeting and whittle or doze off while he waited for Soren to finish.

They quickly lost track of how many times Ike had simply fallen asleep in Soren’s tent and stumbled back to his own in the wee hours of the morning only to lie awake in his own cot. So when Ike showed up at Soren’s tent one night with his own rucksack and bedroll tucked under his arm muttering something about how sharing a tent would be more efficient, Soren was hardly surprised.

He was surprised, however, when Ike laid his cot right next to Soren’s and plopped himself down in the middle of both cots, insisting Soren quit work for the day and join him. Soren was too flustered to refuse and ultimately resigned himself to learning to sleep with his back against Ike’s chest.

He could have protested if he had wanted to, really he could, but he knew for a fact the reason Ike was always in Soren’s tent at night was because Ike had trouble sleeping on his own ever since Greil died. The nightmares played on loop – blood, a flash of a blade against the moon, a thousand vicious soldiers surrounding them, calling for his death. Soren would wipe tears from Ike’s cheeks as he watched him sleep, desperately wanting to wake him but knowing that doing so meant Ike would sleep at all and goddess, did he need the rest.

It was easy for everyone else to forget that Ike was only seventeen when the fate of an entire country was thrown on his shoulders. It was even easier to forget how young he was at twenty one what with his enormous build and stern chiseled features – but Soren never forgot. Soren knew how much Ike suffered and struggled to live up to everyone else’s expectations; he know how much Ike had to give up in order to keep the army together, to ensure that no one died needlessly.

He knew that Ike was just as broken as Soren was. Ike was just a boy with a bleeding heart who just wanted everyone around him to be ok. He was no one’s hero, no matter how convincing his acting was.

So Soren pushed aside his doubts and fears of rejection and self worth and pressed himself against Ike and let himself be held like a stuffed bear. If it brought Ike comfort, then he would do it gladly, insecurities be damned.

He was Ike’s support and he was proud of that.

Their touches grew in intensity from that point on. On the somewhat rare occasion that Soren dined with everyone else, he’d always sit close enough to Ike for their thighs to meet, elbows knocking into each other but hardly caring. Ike would often lace his fingers with Soren’s when no one was looking, or just lean against him. After battle briefings were no longer formal affairs, but intimate whispered conversations over maps and ledgers, foreheads touching, Ike often absentmindedly twirling the tips of Soren’s hair around his fingers.

It was enough for Soren to have hope that maybe he could become more than Ike’s support – that Ike would choose him in the end and they could lean on each other for the rest of their lives.

Of course it was far more likely that Ike would one day meet someone wonderful and settle down with them; then the work he was doing would become their job. Soren could only treasure these little moments between them and hoard them away for a time when he was no longer needed.

It was difficult to do when the world kept throwing every obstacle in their path. Soren was exhausted, drained, and Ike broke just a little bit more each day. Panic attacks were common and nightmares even more so. They would spend hours simply sitting, holding each other and trying to remember what it was like to be at peace. Soren often suggested leaving, running away and letting the nobles sort things out for themselves, but every time Ike would smile sadly and shake his head.

He didn’t have it in him to abandon anyone.

While they had proven that they could stand before any man – mad or otherwise – and not falter, a goddess was something neither of them wished to face off against; yet there they were at the base of her tower waiting for the sun to rise. Neither of them spoke as before dawn, but as soon as they stepped onto the frozen stones Ike turned to him and said, “Don’t leave my side,” in the softest, most uncertain tone Soren had ever heard.

Soren took him by the hand – a first for them – and whispered, “Of course, Ike.”

Hours of fighting – blood, filth, sweat and steel – too many close calls amidst the screams and tears. Floor after floor of gold-clad soldiers reeking of death and ghostly spirits raining down bolts of lightning caused many to give up, to run down the stairs and abandon their cause in order to save their own lives. Soren was numb and Ike fought more and more like a savage beast than did a man the higher they climbed and there was nothing Soren could do to help him.

Standing before the goddess seemed to calm him somewhat – perhaps staring death in the eyes was cathartic, or perhaps it was Yune’s blessing. Regardless, Soren at least was hyperaware of their immanent fate, and with their backs together and weapons at the ready, he asked the one question that would leave him with no regrets.

“Ike… Um… Were you joking when you said you couldn’t remember how we met?” A gold flash from Ragnell as Ike cut down an approaching foe from a distance.

“Well, sorta,” A deep breath, “It was a long time ago.”

“ How could you forget?” Soren felt his heart clench as he readied another spell and fired it in the direction of a wayward spirit. Ike spun him around and smiled.

“Relax, Soren,” He said quietly, “I got to thinking, and I remembered. I remember what happened in Gallia on the day we first met.” Soren forgot how to breathe.

“Ike…” He keened.

Ike began the story and Soren filled in the blanks. Weapons clashed around them, flames singed their clothing but, somehow they were both smiling, small and easy, back to back. But the longer the story went on the less Ike spoke, and the more Soren reminisced about things he’d rather not remember – of hunger and loneness and more rejection than any one person should ever have to bear.

Then the panic set in. The rush of battle, the stress of the last five years of war and nonsense, and his last secret laid bare – if they were to die now, what would it all have been for?

Suddenly Ike’s arms were wrapped around him, whispering, “It’s all in the past, Soren…” Ragnell lay forgotten on the stone floor as Soren burst into tears. Ike ran his shivering hands through Soren’s hair and he realized that Ike was shaken too – he’d been shaken for so long and without any way to shed tears.

Soren clung to Ike and cried enough for the both of them.

And somehow they won.

Beaten, tired, and in excruciating pain, but the goddess had been bested, her barrier fallen and her soldiers no longer a threat. And as she faded away the cries of victory grew and grew until the walls of the tower shook with relief.

Soren remained frozen in place unable to process the fact that he was alive – they were all alive. They had won. Ike caught met his gaze from across the room and gave him a tire smile. The numbness ebbed and in its place a kind of panicked joy bubbled forth. The tears came back but this time Soren made no move to stop them although he never looked away from Ike.

Soldiers everywhere raced around to confirm the living and mourn the dead, cries of loss and joy equal in measure. Mist was the first to tackle her brother in a crushing tear-stained hug that Ike barely had the strength to return. The other mercenaries followed suit and soon Soren couldn’t tell if they were congratulating him or trying to hold him upright. Too tired to continue smiling or protest, Ike let them do as they pleased.

Slowly he made his way towards Soren, weakly accepting congratulations and thanks from the rest of his army as he went. As the rest of the soldiers gathered the dead and the wounded, Ike merely stood there, inches from Soren and drained –

It started with a touch.

A soft brush of knuckles against a wet cheek and suddenly Soren could move again. He fell forward, Rexcalibur dropping to the floor, fingertips against Ike’s arms, delicate and hesitant and then –

Ike smiled.

Wide and proud and _blissful_ and Soren couldn’t help smiling back. Ike touched his forehead to Soren’s and started to laugh, softly, sweetly, and Soren laughed with him. His fingers found their way into Ike’s hair, and muscled arms curled around Soren’s back as they laughed, and laughed and laughed…

And as that laughter died away the bliss stayed with them. They made it. They were _alive_. There were so many things Soren wanted to say but all he could get out was a breath that sounded like Ike’s name before it was stolen with a kiss.

Ike may have looked like an uncultured brute but his kisses were soft and sweet and Soren wanted nothing more than to drown in that taste of earth and blood and salt. Though chaste, it was bursting with unrivaled passion that set their lips and cheeks ablaze and their pulses racing. Ike held him tighter and barely let Soren come up for air before kissing him over and over like he was starving and the only thing that could sate him was the smooth fruit of Soren’s lips.

Soren would have let Ike take him right then and there, their first time on frozen bloodstained stone, but Mist called for them and they were forced to pull apart.

But before the disappointment could set in, Ike picked up Rexcalibur and Ragnell and laced their fingers together.

They left the tower hand in hand.

And if they disappeared early on during the celebratory feast, no one noticed.


	2. The Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to preface this by saying... I don't know exactly. I had a plan going in, but Ike and Soren were like "but we wanna do our own thing" and I was all "no" and they were like "fuck you" and did it anyway.
> 
> Soren's a little less cutting in this fic if only because he's stressed af and worried. He's also very... forward. In ways I was not planning on, I swear.
> 
> There is a (very long) sex scene at the end of this chapter, and I really, REALLY hope it comes off as... well at least somewhat sexy, idk. I did my best.

“Do I seriously have to go out there?” Ike groaned as Soren fussed with the clasp of his cape.

“I’m not sure it can be avoided,” He said with a cheeky grin, “You’ve already done it once after the last war anyway. Just smile and wave. The Chancellor will be doing most of the talking anyway.” He boldly touched his fingers to Ike’s cheek, “I’ll be watching from back here. Now go.” Ike curled his fingers around Soren’s and sighed.

“Alright, alright. I’m going.” He grumbled and made his way towards the balcony, glancing back briefly to catch Soren waving at him. Ike steeled himself and walked through the curtain.

The sun was blinding and the crowd gathered below the balcony blared victory cheers spliced with verses of the Crimean national anthem. It was overwhelming and somehow it felt nothing like it had the first time he and Elincia had made a public appearance together. Back then the crowd had been mostly hushed – happy but apprehensive over the reveal of their new ruler and unknown hero. This time they cheered as if they believed themselves invincible on account of the achievements of their victorious leadership.

Honestly, Ike just wanted to go back behind the curtain and drag Soren to the kitchens for an extended meal and then to bed so they could sleep for a week before making the long trip home.

Again.

He had tuned out so thoroughly that he missed the point when the crowd grew quiet for Elincia’s speech. He didn’t bother to pay much attention to it – after all, he wasn’t expected to do anything but wave to the crowd once the speeches were finished so as long as he noticed when she stopped talking he’d be fine.

He glanced back at the curtains behind him only to find that they’d been tied open; Soren, Bastian, Lucia and Geoffrey all observing from the shadows. Ike caught Soren’s eyes, soft and proud, and let out the tense breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Really, life in the spotlight was not his thing. The sooner it was over the better.

He turned back to face the crowd, noting with mild disinterest that Elincia had finished her speech, if the monumentous applause and cries were anything to go by. He was pretty proud of her. She’d come a long way from the sheltered little noble they’d stumbled on in the woods. She’d truly grown into someone fit to rule a country and rule it fairly.

Perhaps that meant they could finally take a vacation. A three month fishing trip with Soren sounded good. No one would look for them at some random river on the borders of Gallia. They didn’t even have to fish – it wasn’t like Ike was fond of the activity anyway. He just wanted some peace and quiet away from these snooty nobles and their goddess-damned expectations.

…Like this stupid noble that had been talking about absolutely nothing for the last fifteen minutes to the silent populace.

“It gives me great pride to announce to you all today that our dearest Queen Elincia shall soon take a husband!” The noble cried dramatically. Ike raised an eyebrow.

That was the first he’d heard of it. When had she decided to marry? He glanced at her from across the balcony and frowned at the confused expression she directed at the speaker. Had she not planned on announcing it yet? Is that why she looked like that?

“Crimea shall witness the birth of a golden era! An era of peace and prosperity as we join together in holy matrimony the hands of our own Queen Elincia Ridell Crimea and the Great Hero of Tellius!” He exclaimed.

Ike felt his stomach bottom out.

Who and who now? Surely this nutcase wasn’t talking about him. Ike had never agreed to such a thing, and a quick survey of Elincia’s face told him that this was the first time she’d heard of it too. She shared with him horrified expression flitting back and forth between the noble and her retainers behind her in the shadows, quite obviously panicked about the whole thing. Ike slowly turned to look at Soren, like he’d have some kind of explanation…

…but Soren simply stared back at him, wide scarlet eyes looking just as lost as Ike felt.

The crowd went wild.

\-----

“There better be a good goddamn explanation for this.” Ike snarled, slamming the doors of the throne room open with such ferocity that one of them splintered on impact. The noble men and women of the court looked at him with a mixture of awe and contempt.

“General Ike, it would be wise to watch your tone.” Ike recognized the man as the bastard who announced the so-called-engagement to a crowd of thousands.

“I’m about three seconds from wringing your neck with my bare hands and you’d better have a good reason why I shouldn’t.” Ike’s voice was low and boiling with rage. Far be it for him to threaten a civilian, but Ike was far from thinking clearly. He wanted answers.

“Ike…” Soren had finally caught up with him, cool, trembling fingers gripping Ike’s wrist out of concern. Ike felt his fury ebb only slightly, but his mere presence was intense and oppressive. The nobles in the room regarded him like something wild and dangerous.

They regarded him like they would a Laguz, and somehow that just made him angrier.

Elincia and her retainers stumbled into the throne room, panicked and confused. She addressed the court before they could respond to Ike’s threat.

“Maquis Silok! What is the meaning of this? I do not recall agreeing to any talks of marriage.” She yelled with surprising authority.

“Your Majesty, please calm down. The court agreed that this arrangement would be in Crimea’s best interest. Our Queen and her Hero, bound in matrimony. It’s a match that will inspire great patriotism and pride with the people.” Silok, the youngest male in the court, beamed with pride as he spoke.

“Indeed Your Majesty,” A dark bearded man, the chancellor, if Ike remembered correctly, interjected, “Crimea has been through too many wars. The people are scared and to have such a young ruler… it fills one with worry. But with a Hero like General Ike beside you, there will be none to question your leadership. It is, on all accounts, a good plan.” Elincia let out an outraged cry.

“A good plan?!” She shrieked, “Is that what you call this? Announcing some half-baked scheme to the people without even asking for my consent?! That is far from a good plan, Chancellor.”

“If I may, Your Grace,” A gruff older man spoke from across the room, “We have experienced heavy losses since the invasion of Daein five years ago. We’re stretched thin and the people need something to pin their hopes on,” He cleared his throat, “I think all of us believed that this match would serve that purpose.”

“Ridiculous!” Elincia cried.  

“And we’re just supposed to accept that?” Ike clenched his fists and ground his teeth. The only thing keeping him from grabbing the nearest noble and throwing them out the window was Soren’s claw-like grip on his arm.

“You both always do what’s right for Crimea. I trust you’ll come to terms with this decision soon enough.” Silok said quietly. Ike opened his mouth to speak, but Chancellor Mitnala beat him to it.

“Your Majesty, the wedding preparations have been in place for quite some time. We’re prepared to hold the ceremony as well as General Ike’s coronation in a week’s time. I do hope you’ll find that acceptable.” He said.

Ike did not find that acceptable, and as he smashed one of the chairs nearby with his foot, the court understood exactly how much he disliked the idea. With a snarl he turned on his heel and stormed out of the throne room just as enraged as he had been upon entering.

Soren quickly followed after him.

\-----

 “Ike! Wait!” Soren called after him. Ike slowed his pace but didn’t stop walking. Soren knew he wanted to be as far from those arrogant nobles as possible, so he wasn’t surprised by Ike’s compromised obedience. He jogged along behind him until Ike finally came to an abrupt stop at a small neglected courtyard.

Soren didn’t approach him. He simply watched as Ike tried to calm himself down with deep steady breaths.

“Five years,” Ike said, “Five bloody years, two wars and now this?” Ike’s fingers dug into his thighs while Soren moved to place a comforting hand on his back.

“I know, Ike…” Soren whispered.

“What the hell was it all for? I’ve fought a mad king, a corrupted senate, a living legend and a bloody _goddess_ and for what? For a bunch of stuffed shirts to tell me what to do?” Ike voice was strained, and his shoulders shook beneath Soren’s palm.

“I know,” Soren squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’ve given,” Ike drew in a deep breath, “ _everything,_ I’ve given them everything and it’s still not enough?”

Soren said nothing, head hung low. They'd been too preoccupied fighting the battles in front of them than preparing for the political struggles ahead of them. Ike might be the most powerful man on the entire continent, but he couldn't fight his way out of an arranged marriage to the Queen. Those nobles had backed them into a corner.

They were trapped.

Ike turned to face him, taking Soren’s hand in his.

“Say something,” Ike pleaded. Soren stared up into blue eyes, dull without that usual glimmer of hope, “Anything, just…” He swallowed, “Please, Soren. Talk to me.”

But Soren couldn’t think of anything to say, or perhaps he just forgot how to speak. Either way his voice wasn’t working. He cupped Ike’s face with his free hand.

“I-I... We – We’ll think of something.” He stumbled. Ike leaned into his touch and for a few moments, everything was quiet.

“You’re not going to tell me to run?” He murmured, “I wish you would. I’d do it this time.” Soren dropped his gaze.

“I don’t know if we can,” He whispered. Ike tilted his chin up so they were looking at each other again.

“What do you mean?” He asked, barely masking the worry in his words. Soren’s jaw clenched but he didn’t look away.

“Ike…” He began, “This wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. The court likely decided this long before we won the last war. They’re too far ahead of us.”

“We’ve faced impossible odds before. We can do it again.” Ike said. Soren shook his head.

“That’s not what I meant. Ike, the whole of Melior has seen your face – they know what you look like. Every single guard in this city has met you at least once and I’m certain that the court is expecting you to try to run. They’ll have prepared for it. They know you can’t raise your blade against an innocent man.” Soren said. The gravity of the situation began to weigh on Ike as he realized exactly what Soren was implying. “And even… even if we managed to escape, they’ve already announced your engagement publicly. If the people find out that the Queen’s Hero abandoned her, it would be chaos. At best Elincia would lose much of her power, if not her entire claim to the throne. At worse it could mean civil war.”

“…You’re not serious.” Ike said.

“I am. People who lose faith in their leaders are likely to overturn them. Ike, they’ve out maneuvered us. I…” Soren fought for the words, “I don’t know how to get you out of this.” Ike’s jaw tensed, but he wrapped his arms around Soren and pulled him close.

“We’ll think of something.” Ike said, repeating Soren’s words from earlier. Soren buried his face in Ike’s neck.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. Ike pulled back enough to look at his face.

“What for?” He asked.

“I wasn’t paying close enough attention. If I had just stopped to think for a moment –” Soren’s statement was cut short when Ike pressed their foreheads together.

“Don’t,” He said, “It’s not your fault, ok? Not even Elincia saw this coming. There was nothing you could do.”

“Ike…” Soren whispered his name like a prayer. Ike cupped Soren’s cheeks with both hands.

“We’ll get through this, I _know_ we will. We’ve got a whole week to figure things out, right?” He smiled weakly and Soren forced himself to return the gesture. He wasn’t convincing, but his words were comforting at least. “We’ve faced worse and on a tighter deadline.”

Soren let his head rest against Ike’s shoulder and willed himself to believe.

\-----

The castle became a whirlwind of activity shortly after the announcement and Ike and Soren found themselves swept apart in the aftermath. Ike was constantly pestered by a persistent entourage of  nobles and servants that ferried him around the castle like cargo under to guise of getting his opinions on details about the wedding, or demanding that something required his immediate attention and oh by the way there’s a lot to study before one can become king.

Soren was pulled into the wedding planning efforts as well, but it seemed almost conspiratorial the way he and Ike never seemed to meet. It had been three days since Soren had last been able to spend more than ten minutes in Ike’s company and both of them were growing increasingly frazzled. How on earth were they supposed to plan an escape if they were apart?

But Soren wasn’t the only one having trouble spending time with Ike. None of the mercenaries save Mist were able to reach him either, and Mist was only able to squeeze out a marginal amount of time more than Soren had. They weren’t even allowed to share a bed or even a room as they had grown accustomed to. Guards patrolled the halls constantly at night and slipping past them undetected was impossible and their rooms were too far apart to reach without being spotted.

Neither of them slept well or long.

What little time Soren wasn’t dedicating to fulfilling his duties as some sort of pseudo wedding planner he spent in the royal library pouring over book after book desperately seeking some kind of solution to a problem he wasn’t likely to solve.

Actually, Soren had known from the very beginning that there were no legal ties that would force Ike and Elincia to go through with the marriage. It was, in truth, the way the nobles had gone about announcing the match that made everything so problematic. The general public rallied behind the idea of a Hero King with such blind enthusiasm that if such a promise was denied to them, it would likely start a revolt. Why would the great Hero of Tellius abandon their Queen if she were truly worthy of the throne?

Additionally, the royal court had been right about it being an amiable match in Crimea’s best interest. Certainly with Ike on the throne the country would finally know true peace… and perhaps Ike would be better off married to a woman than in some vague relationship with a half-bred male.

He pressed his palms against his eyes and tried to calm his nerves.

The problem was, the longer he was apart from Ike, the less certain and the more frazzled he became. The more frazzled he got, the less he was able to focus and the more he began to panic. He dreaded a life at court but if Ike stayed… Soren would stay too.

He would mourn a love that never came to be, but he’d stay by Ike’s side through anything, even marriage.

\-----

By day four, Ike was a nightmare to be around. He snapped at everyone, intentionally or not and while many kept their distance, they weren’t as far away as Ike wanted. What he really wanted was a good night’s sleep holding Soren out in the middle of the woods somewhere, but no one seemed to care about that.

It didn’t help that Bastian and Lucia kept taking turns keeping tabs on him and not-so-subtly asking him questions about his thoughts on Elincia. They were both incredibly pushy and possibly the biggest contributors to Ike’s foul mood.

Ike felt irritable, grumpy, overtired, and on the cusp of just damning the consequences and running away with Soren. He’d never know if a civil war broke out if he was in another country. Ignorance is bliss, right?

No, not knowing would actually weigh on his conscience. He couldn’t leave knowing that the outcome of his actions may very well lead to war.

He’d had enough of war.

Ike stared out over the Melior from a small balcony and breathed in the cool night air. He had managed to slip away from his entourage with every intention of finding Soren, but the nobles kept him occupied and difficult to track down. He figured if he couldn’t spend time with Soren, he could at least steal a few minutes for himself.

Ike growled when he heard footsteps behind him.

“…General Ike?” Elincia asked cautiously. Ike let out a frustrated sigh. Of all the people who could have stumbled upon him, Elincia was probably the one he wanted to see the least – excluding the members of the royal court, of course. It wasn’t that he was angry with her exactly, none of this was her fault after all, but he still found it difficult to look at her and not seethe.

“Your majesty,” He grunted almost sarcastically. At least she looked as uncomfortable as he felt.

“Do you mind if I join you?” She moved to stand beside him.

“It’s your castle.” Ike said. Elincia fidgeted with her dress.

“You’re angry.” She said. He turned to face her, eyes flashing.

“And I have every right to be.” He said. The smile she gave him was sad.

“Yes you do,” Elincia turned to look over the city, “I wish I was still angry.”

“How can you not be?” Ike asked. She hesitated before answering.

“Because I’ve always known that it was my responsibility to give up everything for the sake of my country. That is my duty in exchange for the privilege of my birth,” A cold wind blew her hair against her face, “But I thought that I at least… would be able to marry for love. It seems a bit foolish to think that now. I knew I’d never have much in the way of freedom, but… it’s not like that for you, is it?” She sounded bitter and Ike felt his anger ease slightly but he didn’t respond to that. He was a mercenary of common birth with responsibility thrust upon him. He’d never wanted it, never asked for it, and would never dream of trying to keep it so it was a little difficult to understand her resignation.

They stood in silence for a few minutes. Ike had almost forgotten she was there until she spoke again.

“Ike,” Elincia addressed him informally – something she never did unless asked directly, “I…” Ike could tell she was struggling with the words, “…If you were to run… I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Elincia…” He stared at her.

“For all you’ve done for me… for Crimea, no, for all of Tellius. Your freedom would be the smallest gift I could grant you.” She said. Ike was silent, thoughtful.

“Soren said that leaving now could mean civil war.” He hoped she’d fill in the blanks.

“It could,” She nodded, “But that’s not something that should concern you. You’ve done enough for us – for everyone.” Elincia faced him with a resolve so deeply ingrained in her features that Ike could barely recognize her, “I’m not as weak as I used to be. If I lose my claim to the throne, so be it. Crimea will survive with or without me at its helm.”

She dropped her gaze, and suddenly the lost girl in the forest was back.

“I don’t want to be put in a scenario where we are husband and wife in name only. It’s a lie I’d never want to live, knowing my heart belongs to another while I’m bound to you. Ah! Sorry, I meant no offense by that!” She stuttered. Ike chuckled and leaned on the balcony railing.

“Don’t apologize for that. It’s good to know we’re on the same page.” He said. Elincia seemed surprised by his words.

“Do you… have someone your heart belongs to, Ike?” Her hand flew to her mouth and her cheeks flushed pink, “O-oh! Sorry. That… was a little personal, wasn’t it?” Ike snorted and stared back at the city.

“…I do have someone like that.” He said with a fond smile on his face. Elincia breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well in that case, let us work hard to find a way out of this. For both our sakes.” She smiled at him and he smiled back – a forced one, but a smile all the same.

“Yeah, let’s.”

\-----

By day five, Soren had all but given up on finding a way to safely break the engagement. They’d missed the proper window to get the Chancellor to issue a public apology – though Soren was certain that man would rather face execution – and that was truly their only other option. Requesting help from Sanaki or Micaiah would make the fragile relations between them waver, and having Elincia formally break of the engagement herself would likely be misconstrued as her denying the greatness of the people’s Hero.

Their only option for escape was to run.

Soren had planned the route, found a servant willing to smuggle them out of the castle after a hefty bribe, mapped the guard’s patrol patterns and all the necessary supplies needed to travel on foot. All he truly needed was Ike’s consent and they could be long gone by midnight.

Not that Soren thought Ike would agree. It was rather difficult to imagine Ike abandoning the situation altogether no matter how much he wanted to be free of it. His plans of escape were more a tiny beacon of hope rather than an expected outcome.

As he looked out the window of the dimly lit library, he realized that this palace was a prison. They’d been trapped by the virtue of Ike’s good nature – the very thing that made him who he was – and the engagement was a life sentence for something as ridiculous as doing the right thing.

In two days Soren would resign himself to this fate. He’d resign himself to the fact that Ike would have to stay here, marry a woman he didn’t love, and rule a country that took him for granted – and Soren would be right there with him. And when the time finally came for Ike to father a child, Soren would make it his mission to ensure that child was happy. He’d watch over Ike’s lineage for as long as his tainted blood would let him.

A single tear rolled down his cheek and he furiously scrubbed it away.

The future could come later. For now, Soren would dedicate himself to the wedding preparations. If they were doomed to this cage, then Soren at least wanted Ike to have the best wedding possible.

He startled when a hand fell on his shoulder, but immediately relaxed at the familiar scent.

“Ike…” Soren breathed. Ike sat down on the bench next to him and pulled Soren against him.

“Hey.” He said. Ike looked exhausted and Soren was sure he didn’t look any better.

“Hey.” Soren said back, leaning against Ike and willing himself to relax, “I see you finally escaped your stalkers.” Ike rolled his eyes.

“Probably. They always seem to find me too quickly.” Ike grumbled.

Soren hummed and closed his eyes. Would they still be able to touch like this after the wedding? Probably not.

“How quickly can you be ready to leave?” Ike asked.

“Huh?” Soren blinked in surprise.

“I can’t do this,” Ike blurted out, “I can’t marry Elincia. I can’t be a king. Soren, it’ll kill me to live here like this,” He met Soren’s eyes, worn out and dim, “So let’s do it. Let’s run.”

“I-Ike… you’re serious…” Soren breathed. It was more a statement than a question.

“Elincia gave her blessing. She’s gotten strong, she can handle this.” Ike smiled, warm and wide, “Will you come with me?”

“I’d go whether you asked me to or not.” Soren said. His chest felt light, bubbly, and when Ike dropped the smallest of kisses on his lips, Soren swore he was floating.

“Mm,” Ike grinned, “Does my strategist have an escape plan?” He teased.

Soren’s eyes were alight with mischief as he retrieved a hand drawn map of the capitol and began to relay his plans.

\-----

Soren’s plan was simple. There was a thirty minute window in which Ike could move undetected from his room to Soren’s while the guards changed shifts at precisely midnight on the night before the wedding. Once at Soren’s room, they could climb out his window and down to the roof of the kitchens, enter through a large roof vent that would be left open courtesy of a bribed servant. The same servant would then smuggle them onto the back of an empty merchant wagon headed back to town. They’d then make their way through the back allies of the southwestern residential district and out a farm road on foot towards Gallia – towards home.

The only thing Ike had to do was get to Soren on time. They had one shot at this plan, otherwise Ike was going to have to brute force his way out of the castle and the thought of that wasn’t very appealing.

Ike continued to pace anxiously around his room, glancing at the grandfather clock with every lap and counting down the minutes until he could finally be free of this goddess forsaken place. The rest of the mercenaries could catch up with them later.

Ike stopped pacing long enough to confirm that the heavy footsteps of the guard outside his door were fading down the hallway. His heartbeat quickened and he flung his rucksack over his shoulder and carefully opened his door.

He peered both ways, making sure the coast was clear. Convinced that he was actually alone, he slipped out the door and shut it quietly behind him.

“Going somewhere, General Ike?” The voice startled him and he whirled around to come face to face with Lucia, Bastian and Geoffrey. He swore under his breath, fingers grazing Rangell’s hilt.

\-----

Ike was late.

Soren twisted the ends of his belt between his fingers and chewed on his lip. It was fifteen minutes passed the time they had agreed to meet. Ike was nowhere to be seen and Soren was starting to panic. Had he been caught? It seemed likely. It wasn’t as though Ike would stand him up on purpose. He wanted out of this castle just as badly as Soren did.

That aside, Soren was never one to be without a backup plan, no matter how confident he felt in his original strategies. No plan was without flaw after all, and this one was no exception. He picked up the Sleep staff by the bed and moved towards the door, quietly muttering the incantation. A heavy metal thud told Soren that the guard outside was down – unfortunately right in front of his door which made opening it a test of strength.

Finally free, he tightened his grip on his staff and took off in the direction of Ike’s room.

It took longer than he would have liked. There were at least twice as many guards around as there had been earlier in the week and putting each one to sleep without being spotted took time. It seemed more and more likely that Ike had been caught, and with only a few hours left until sunup – they had to hurry.

Fourteen guards and two close calls later, Ike’s door came into view. Soren double checked to make sure he was alone before tiptoeing up to it and raising his fist to knock. He paused when he heard voices.

“Ike, please reconsider. If you leave now, all our efforts will have been for naught.” A familiar voice… was it Bastian’s?

“I don’t know, this seems like a really, _really_ bad idea.” Ike sounded conflicted. Soren breathed a sigh of relief. At least he knew Ike hadn’t been caught; he’d only been… _delayed_ by some visitors _._

“No plan is without a bit of risk, General.” Lucia’s voice this time, “And we can’t do this without you.” Ike let out a long, frustrated sigh.

“Geoffrey? You’re ok with this?” Ike said.

“…I wouldn’t say that, exactly. I would like to respect the wishes of both you and Elincia, but this situation is very delicate. It may be selfish of me to say, but I do not see any other way, General Ike.” Geoffrey sounded the most upset of the four, though Soren couldn’t fathom why. He didn’t dare to spend time thinking about it either, not when it sounded like Ike was being convinced to stay.

He held his breath and waited for Ike’s response.

“Alright,” Ike said finally, “Alright, I’ll do it.” Soren’s heart fell to the pit of his stomache, then jolted when Lucia clapped her hands together.

“Wonderful! Then we’d best get started right away. We’re extremely short on time.” She said.

“Yeah I know. Just let me go tell Soren. He’s waiting for me.” Ike said.

“There’s no time, General! We’ve only got mere hours until sunrise and there’s much to prepare.” Bastian insisted.

“But –” Ike tried to protest, but Geoffrey cut in.

“You can apologize after the ceremony, General. We really do have to hurry.” He said. Soren backed away from the door slowly, his breathing coming out in short, awful contractions.

Ike had agreed to stay.

Elincia’s retainers had somehow managed to convince Ike to stay here and Soren couldn’t hear anything but the sound of his world crumbling around him.  

His sleep staff fell to the floor with a clatter, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

\-----

It was the worst sunrise Soren had ever seen. Perfect periwinkle clouds dusted in shimmering gold floating freely above the calm misty mountains off in the distance promised a clear, sunny sky for the entire day; perfect weather for a royal wedding.

Soren hated it.

In just a few short hours he would watch the love of his life walk someone else down the aisle and pledge himself to home and country. Soren wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that Ike was doomed to a life he never wanted, or the idea that Soren could never be more than Ike’s closest friend.

How greedy could he possibly be? It was an honor to be Ike’s friend, and he’d been foolish to hope for more. The rest of his life had been on great tragedy, it only made sense that his romance would follow suit.

He let his head drop against the door and slowly slid his bag off his shoulders. Soren figured he should unpack it since this was likely his permanent room now, but he could barely bring himself to get up off the floor.

He would have to get up eventually. The wedding was in a few hours and he was probably expected down in the kitchens to oversee the preparations for the feast. He rubbed his eyes with trembling hands, and tried to recall the schedule for the day.

He caught sight of his white formal robes hanging on the armoire. They were a gift from Ike – a match to Ike’s only set of formal wear that Soren had insisted on purchasing so he’d have at least one outfit to wear for special occasions. He supposed it was only fitting that today would be the first time he’d wear them – the day Ike would become king.

Maybe he didn’t get the happy ending he’d always wanted, but at the very least he could make sure that Ike’s wedding was perfect.

\-----

Soren’s efforts to oversee the kitchen did not go well. In fact, they did not go at all. Bastian had cornered him long before he ever made it to his destination and insisted that Soren should have the day off. Soren protested profusely, but arguing with Bastian was a bit like trying to set fire to a brick and Soren was left with nothing to do.

Mist and Titania found him first and the three of them ate a tasteless breakfast in relative silence. Soren wasn’t sure if he should be comforted by the fact that the two women closest to Ike were also upset by the whole affair.

He wasn’t sure what to feel, really.

That numbness stayed with him as he sat in an aisle seat next to Mist who tried to distract him by pointing out cute little details in the wedding decorations. Soren could not fathom what was so endearing about the long garlands of white flowers, or the hundreds of white ribbons strewn about the glass ceiling. Did it matter that every seat had a pink peony on it? Or that the aisle runner was plush and red and covered in rose petals? Or that tiny strings of glass beads hung between the pillars of the enormous balcony that the sun kept catching in such a way that they made the whole room sparkle.

It was a balcony used for public presentations – of course it was going to be done up in such an elaborate fashion. Every single element was there to impress the public, to make them feel like this event was some sort of holy ritual when it was really just the enactment of an oral contract.

He stole a look at the altar. Ike was already standing there in white formalwear befitting a prince and flanked on either side by ten armed groomsman, and ten stunning bridesmaids. Everything he wore felt like everything Ike wasn’t. A gilded cape, a white ceremonial helmet, a slender saber and delicate silk gloves – none of that was Ike. It was a charade – a fallacy.

Soren hung his head and let Mist’s enthusiasm wash over him and willed the ceremony to be over. But soon the music started playing and the hurt and shock he’d stuffed down into his gut threatened to out itself. He kept his head down and barely caught sight of Elincia’s shoes as she walked passed him.

His eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenched. Mist leaned against him in a show of solidarity and for once he actually appreciated the contact.

When the priest began talking, Soren was vaguely surprised to realize that it was Rhys and not the Cardinal. He listened, but didn’t register any of the words until it came time for the first set of vows.

“And you, general? Do you swear upon your honor and upon this crown that you shall live for the people and for the good of Crimea?” Rhys said. It was a preliminary vow, the vow taken in exchange for a crown. Soren’s heartbeat was deafening. He didn’t want to hear Ike’s answer although he knew what it would be.

“I swear upon my honor,” He said.

Soren’s heart stopped beating.

That wasn’t Ike’s voice.

His head snapped up and he stared at Elincia and the figure to her right with wide eyes. She was smiling bright and wide underneath her veil as she renewed her vow to Crimea, but all Soren could focus on was the groom.

That voice had been the right octave of low tenor, but it was too refined, too smooth, too eloquent to belong to Ike. And those shoulders looked a little less broad – or perhaps it was that the sleeves of the jacket were a bit too large – and the wisps of blue hair peering out from underneath that helmet were too long and far lighter than the deep blue of Ike’s own.

Soren frantically scanned the wedding party for a shock of deep blue and came up empty handed. He looked back to the altar once more only to find his gaze locked on one of the groomsman.

He narrowed his eyes as he realized that the groomsman was staring back at him from beneath that ceremonial helmet, shoulders broad enough to force the fabric of his jacket to strain against the buttons that held it shut. Soren’s eyes slid down the shoulders to those thick fingers perched atop a broadsword like the other nine men beside him then back up to his partially concealed face. He mouthed a single word – a name – and watched the man carefully.

Then from behind that metal grate, lips quirked slightly upwards at the corner and Soren _knew_.

It wasn’t Ike that Elincia was staring at in absolute adoration.

It was Geoffrey.

Soren’s heart began to beat again, louder and louder and louder until it caught in his throat and choked him. Geoffrey and Ike had swapped places. How had anyone not noticed?

And then he caught sight of Lucia’s cocky grin amidst the other soft smiles of the bridesmaids and it _clicked_.

He hadn’t overheard Elincia’s retainers asking Ike to marry Elincia; he’d overheard them trying to convince him to stay long enough to pull off this plan. If they swapped clothing just before the ceremony began, no one would know who Elincia was marrying until the vows were already said.

No sooner had he thought it, Rhys announced with great pride, “I hereby present to you Queen Elincia Ridell Crimea and Prince Geoffrey Delbray. May the goddess bless your rule with love and light.”

The room was shocked at the groom’s identity but at the sight of their Queen so blissfully happy that they soon burst into applause and cheers, drowning out the outrage shrieks of the noblemen, and soon joined by the slightly confused cheers of the populace below. Elincia removed Geoffrey’s helmet as he lifted her veil and without warning she flung herself into a passionate, tearful kiss. There was hooping, hollering, and a ton of whistling as the happy couple floated down the aisle, arm in arm, their procession of groomsmen and bridesmaids behind them.

Soren held his gaze firmly on Ike, and when he drew close he let his hand slide over Soren’s shoulder.

“Iiiiiiiike!” Mist shouted as soon as she noticed the touch. Ike grinned from behind the helmet and gave her a small wave before disappearing out the balcony doors. She turned to Soren, wide eyed and gleeful. “Did you know?” She asked, “You must have known! Augh! You two are so sneaky! Why won’t you ever tell me what you’re up to!?”

Soren stared at her blankly, then slowly, slowly, he began to smile. His smile turned to breathless laughter which brought forth tears he couldn’t stop.

Mist sat there and rubbed his back until the balcony was empty. Titania waited nearby with a smile on her face.

\-----

Ike hated parties.

Not the tiny family dinners they had back at the fort, or the spread-out feasts they had at camp, but those extravagant buffet-style stop-talking-to-me-I-just-wanted-some-turkey parties with clothes that itched and shoes that pinched his toes – those were the kinds of parties he hated. They always had a fancy name like a soiree or a banquet or a galla or some stupid thing like that.

Apparently, ‘wedding reception’ was one such name. He’d been standing in the castle ballroom for over two hours unable to escape the constant slew of people who kept trying to talk to him. He desperately wanted to leave, but Lucia had warned him not to. He had to make a good show of himself to prove that he was supportive of Elincia’s marriage and that meant suffering through hours of… was this called small talk? It sure took a long time.

The only thing keeping him from making an absolute mess of things was the vast amount of food available. If he was stuffing his face, no one would expect him to talk and the food was good so why not eat until Elincia finally excused him and he could go find Soren?

Speaking of, Ike hadn’t seen hide or hair of Soren since the ceremony. He’d at least caught sight of his mercenaries and a few other delegates he didn’t mind, but there was no sign of Soren. It was strange; Soren should have been easy to spot with a shock of black hair in this sea of white and gold.

He was about to excuse himself – either for more cake or to search for Soren, depending on how many people surrounded him – when Elincia and Geoffrey cut into the conversation. Ike barely had time to put down his plate before Elincia was dragging him onto the ballroom floor just in time for a waltz.

Ike groaned. He _hated_ dancing. Well, formal dancing. Country dances could be fun but those didn’t usually involve a lot of close proximity and precise steps.

“Don’t worry about your feet, just step back and forth,” Elincia giggled. Ike raised an eyebrow, but did as she asked. He could at least get the timing somewhat right.

“Why are we dancing?” Ike asked.

“Please try to smile, Ike. I want to make sure people understand that you consented to my marriage with Geoffrey.” She said with a small but amused huff.

“And… a dance helps with that… how?” Ike said, trying his best to at least not look annoyed.

“It’s a statement. Just humor me, alright?” She twirled him around and suddenly Ike regretted that second slice of cake, “Actually I just wanted an excuse to talk to you without anyone overhearing.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” Ike grumbled.

“Oh don’t be so paranoid,” She said with a bubbly laugh, “I only wanted to thank you. For everything you’ve done.”

“You should be thanking Lucia and Bastian. It was their idea.” Ike nodded in their general direction, and while Elincia followed his gaze, she didn’t hold it.

“For the wedding perhaps, but it would not have been possible without your help. So I wanted to thank you, for the wedding and for everything else you’ve helped me with these last five years. It’s been an honor to be your friend, Ike.” Elincia said, and Ike knew she meant every word. He let out a big sigh, but smiled anyway.

“Well, you’re welcome. It was a pleasure doing business with you, Elincia.” His words made her laugh again, and for a few measures they just pretended to waltz.

“Tell me, Ike,” She said.

“Hm?” He hummed.

“You said you were like me; that you had someone to whom your heart belonged.” She looked at him like a mother who knew her child had been up to something but didn’t quite know what.

“I did say that.” Ike said simply.

“Is that still the case?” She asked.

“It is.” Ike nodded. He’d never doubted his feelings, but it did feel weird to be called out on them.

“Have you told them how you feel about them?” She asked, quieter this time. Ike opened his mouth to reply but promptly closed it.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t exactly _told_ Soren anything – not with words at least. But Soren had to know how Ike felt about him. They’d always been in sync… except for those times when Soren panicked over his heritage.

…Maybe he _should_ say something.

“You should tell them before it’s too late.” Elincia said with a knowing smile.

“Yeah, I will.” Ike said. Seconds later the song ended and Geoffrey was by Elincia’s side again.

“General Ike,” Geoffrey bowed low, “Thank you very much for all you’ve done for Elincia, for me, and for Crimea. We will forever be in your debt.” Ike sighed. All these formalities were a bit aggravating. When Ike didn’t respond right away, Geoffrey straightened out a bit and Ike shook his hand.

“I was happy to do it.” He said with a smile more like a smirk, “You take care of her now, alright?” Geoffrey’s chest puffed out with pride and he shook Ike’s hand with vigor.

“I will.” He said.

Ike left the happy couple on the dancefloor in search of Soren.

He found Mist and Titania first crowded around a table with the rest of the mercenaries. Ike eyed Boyd’s precariously placed hand around Mist’s waist but ignored it in favor of asking them if they’d seen their elusive staff officer. Titania gave him a rather knowing smile, and gestured to the balcony overlooking the hedgemaze at the back of the ballroom.

Wading through a seemingly endless sea of finely dressed nobility was daunting, but damnit Soren was on the other side and when Ike stepped through the glass doors on the other side and caught sight of white silk and black hair leaning against the stone rail and looking out over the night sky, Ike felt an unusual sense of anxiety wash over him.

Then all at once it left him like low tide leave the beach and all the stress and irritation that had built up in his system over the last five days – no, over the last five _years_ – came crashing down around him.

As quickly as it came, those feelings left and in their place a deep sense of relaxation blossomed in his chest and damnit all if he didn’t feel like crying.

He crossed the terrace in three great strides, pulled Soren close from behind and buried his face in that pale neck he loved so much. Soren startled but quickly eased into Ike’s embrace.

“Ike…?” Soren asked quietly. He sounded scared and so uncertain, but Ike didn’t have any words to reassure him with. He held Soren tighter with shaking arms and just _breathed_ him in.

“I’m tired,” Ike finally managed to say, “Soren I’m really, _really_ tired.” And he was. He was tired of war, tired of all the responsibility, tired of all the eyes trained on him and all the expectations he could never live up to. He was tired of politics and mind games and horribly uncomfortable shoes and meals with forty different dishes and fifteen different kinds of forks.

He was tired of being a Hero.

He just wanted to be Ike.

For all his cryptic implications, Soren seemed to find some level on which he understood exactly what Ike meant. He turned in Ike’s arms and put enough space between them so they could see each other’s faces under the full moon. Ike fought the urge to kiss him, but Soren’s presence was like gravity, drawing him in until Soren could taste the lingering hint of cake on Ike’s lips. Soren’s arms slid around his neck and Ike was overwhelmed with a warm sense of calm he only ever felt when Soren was close.

He boldly parted his lips just enough to flick his tongue against the warm crease of Soren’s mouth and devoured the gasp he drew from Soren’s throat.

“Someone’s going to see us,” Soren whispered hoarsely. Ike pushed forward for another kiss, but Soren drew back just out of reach, “There’ll be rumors of you keeping a secret lover.” He teased.

“I don’t care,” Ike grumbled, managing only a small nip at Soren’s lower lip, “Let them say what they want. It’s all true anyway.” He felt Soren tense in his arms.

“…is it?” Soren asked, his voice quiet and strained. One look at his face and Ike realized that perhaps Soren hadn’t been as confident about the nature of their relationship as Ike had been.

“It is,” Ike tried not to drown in wide, scarlet eyes, “I mean, if you want.” He fumbled. He felt unexpectedly nervous, having said so out loud. He’d never considered the possibility that Soren might have just been going along with Ike’s growing intimacy, but his doubts melted away when Soren smiled shyly at him and blushed.

“I do,” His cheeks were visibly pink, even in the poor light, “I want it.” Ike brushed a thumb against Soren’s cheek.

“Me too,” He said, and kissed him again relishing that sweet pulse that filled his lungs every time their lips met. Ike pulled back, an idea clearly formed in his mind, “Soren,” He began, somewhat out of breath, “Let’s really do it this time. Let’s run.” Soren appeared to be legitimately surprised by the suggestion.

“Run? Run from what? We can leave for home anytime, now that you’re not engaged to a queen.” Soren chided.

“I mean, let’s go somewhere – somewhere new. Somewhere no one in Tellius has ever heard of.” A wild grin split his cheeks, “It’ll be just you and me… and maybe a map?” Soren laughed, visibly flustered.

“You’re serious,” Soren’s smile faltered as he searched Ike’s face for any sign that he was joking. Not finding any, his tone grew serious, “Ike, the only undiscovered land is beyond the Desert of Death.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ike’s grin widened.

“Even if we manage to cross it safely, there’s no telling if or when we’ll be able to come back.” Soren’s words held a hint of concern, but his smile was slowly coming back.

“I know,” Ike’s tone was deeply serious in contrast to his gleeful expression. Soren’s smile finally fell.

“Ike, you… you’d be leaving everyone behind. What about Mist?” He sounded worried.

“She can take care of herself. Titania will take over for me, and the mercenaries will still be here if we decide to come back.” Ike said. Soren did not miss Ike’s intentional use of ‘if’ instead of ‘when.’

“This is crazy…” Soren mumbled, his smile returning. Ike nudged his cheek with his nose.

“We’ve done crazier,” He murmured against Soren’s ear and delighted in the shiver get got as a response.

“I really don’t think we have,” Soren chuckled, “But I suppose running away together does have a certain appeal…” His eyes widened alongside Ike’s grin as he realized his odd choice of words, “I-I-I mean – leaving the country together… to explore – like a vacation.” Soren fumbled and glowered at Ike’s snickering.

“Sounds like the perfect honeymoon.” He said. Soren’s jaw dropped.

“H-h-h-honeymoon?!” He stammered, “Th-that’s –” Ike took Soren by the hand and tugged him into the shadows.

“C’mon. I’ve barely slept this week, I didn’t I sleep at all last night and I know you didn’t either. All I want right now is you and a bed.” Ike said. One look at Soren’s beet red face was all it took for Ike to realize how truly embarrassing his words really were.

“…Just to sleep?” Soren asked shyly. Ike furrowed his brow for a moment before he grasped exactly what Soren meant by ‘just.’

“…not just to sleep.” Ike squeezed Soren’s hand and felt his heart flutter at the bashful but excited look on Soren’s face.

Soren followed behind him quietly for a few minutes, just enough time for them to re-enter the castle through some side doors and slip down some hallways leading away from the ballroom.

“Bath…” Soren mumbled, “A-actually, I’d like a bath. First. If that’s alright.” Ike’s ears pricked up. Bathing together sounded very, _very_ nice, actually.

“Lead the way.” Ike said.

\-----

Soren’s heart was racing. Perhaps he’d been a little too hasty with his suggestion to bathe together. He did not feel mentally prepared enough to present his naked body for Ike’s viewing especially in a well lit room.

“This… is probably the fanciest bathroom I’ve ever seen. And that includes the one in Oliver’s mansion.” Ike let his eyes rove over the marble room with equal parts awe and disapproval. Everything in the large, pillared room was trimmed with gold. Bottles of various oils and perfumes lined wrought iron shelves along the walls in between the statues and two tall but narrow fountains. The crystal chandelier was so elaborate it almost felt gaudy, but it gave off a beautiful sort of refracted light.

The bath itself was easily five or six times the size of the copper tub they all shared back at the fort, carved from a single piece of stone and round. Ike dipped his hands into the warm water and frowned.

“…Why is the water pink?” He said. Soren couldn’t bring himself to meet Ike’s eyes – not just yet.

“It’s an herbal bath. Rose petals.” He mumbled. Ike swirled his hand around in the water some more.

“Huh.” He said. Soren still hadn’t moved far from the entrance, and Ike had noticed. “So are you gonna get undressed or…?” Soren felt his cheeks flush.

“You go first,” He said moving towards a crimson privacy screen, “I’ll join you in a minute.” Ike nodded and went straight for the buttons on his suit jacket.

Behind the screen, Soren let out a deep breath to steady his nerves and slowly began to remove his robes.

The bath was supposed to serve two purposes: first, it was supposed to help Soren prepare himself mentally for the… _activities_ that were likely to occur once he and Ike got back to the bedroom. Second, it would let Soren ensure that all areas were properly… cleaned before he offered himself to Ike.

He buried his face in his hands.

Of course he hadn’t really thought things through as thoroughly as he’d liked since it had been a bit of a spontaneous decision. He had altogether forgotten that bathing together meant that they would _both_ have to be naked and Soren wasn’t ready to have his body judged by Ike’s dick. If – after everything they just went through – Ike couldn’t get hard at all at the sight of Soren’s bare skin, Soren would be crushed.

On the other hand, if his naked form did spark some sort of sexual desire in Ike, Soren wanted to go all the way. It was unlikely they’d ever have such perfect conditions to do it once they started traveling again. The castle provided privacy, safety, and every possible amenity to ensure Soren would be properly prepared for sex.

A few more deep breaths let him gather the courage to take a chamber pot and a bottle of unscented oil from the shelves and set them on the ground in preparation for a task he’d only ever read about. He kneeled over the pot and slicked his fingers with the oil. He pressed one digit against his entrance to coat it, alternating between rubbing it slightly and applying gentle pressure.

Soren did not masturbate often as his material usually included what he had considered to be impossible fantasies that got his hopes up for things he’d probably never have. He did finger himself on occasion when time allowed as it was his preferred method to achieve a satisfying orgasm, but he wasn’t particularly used to anything larger than two of his fingers. Ike was built thick all over and if Soren wanted to be able to take him comfortably, he’d need to be thorough.

One finger went in easily, but the second let him feel that achy delicious stretch he’d come to enjoy over time. His own flaccid cock twitched in interest but Soren ignored it in favor of concentrating on relaxing himself. The third finger spread him wide open and he shivered at the feeling of cool air touching his boiling insides.

“Hey Soren?” Ike voice caused him to startle from behind the screen. He’d nearly forgotten that Ike was a mere ten feet away.

“Y-yes?” He managed to squeak out. He could feel himself growing stiff, three fingers deep in his ass with Ike trying to have a conversation with him at the same time.

“Are you going to stay back there, or are you going to join me sometime tonight?” Ike teased, sloshing the water about a bit to make a point. Soren stifled an embarrassed groan and removed his fingers with a small whimper.

“I’ll… join you in a minute.” He said, grabbing a small pitcher of water and positioning himself on his knees with his ass in the air.  He fumbled clumsily with the pitcher but managed to get the spout angled against his hole. He rested his chin on the floor and used his other hand to try to spread himself open as much as possible.

“Alright…” Ike sighed. It was awkward and Soren had definitely never tried it before, but he knew from reading some… rather questionable books that it was entirely necessary. One deep breath and he tipped the pitcher enough to let a steady stream of cool water flow into him, the excess dribbling down his thighs and pooling around his knees. It felt awful but at the same time weirdly erotic and when Soren clenched his entrance shut and held his position his dick began to grow impatiently.

He didn’t have long; Soren knew by the grumbling and sloshing of the water that Ike was growing a little impatient, but this was important. He wanted to have sex and he didn’t want anything to get in the way of that.

Soren emptied himself in the pot noting faintly that he was completely erect now and Ike was _definitely_ going to notice that.

“Hey, you alright back there?” Ike called again.

“Of course,” Soren said, voice a little too breathy for a casual reply.

“…Are you coming out?” Ike asked.

“In a minute.” Soren re-slicked his fingers and slid them in as deep as they’d go, biting his lip to stifle a groan. Somehow that ordeal had made him even more sensitive – and clean, which was the part that mattered most.

“C’mon, Soren. It’s been a whole week. Just hurry up and –”

Ike stared at Soren perched upon the chamber pot with an erection tucked between his thighs and Soren stared right back, mortified.

Soren let out a garbled shriek and tried to cover himself while Ike at least had the sense to look embarrassed.

“S-s-sorry!” Ike rushed back around the screen while Soren felt his entire body flush with embarrassment.

“By the _goddess_ , Ike –!” Soren whimpered, face against his knees, “I said _in a minute!_ ”

“I know! I’m sorry! It’s just that you were taking a really long time and I thought you were just embarrassed or hiding…” Ike’s voice trailed off.

“Well I wasn’t!” Soren cried.

“I know that _now!”_ Ike was so flustered his voice cracked. “I’ll uh, wait in the bath… are you still coming?”

“…Yes.” Soren mumbled.

“Okay… okay…” Ike breathed out. Soren heard him get back in the water and willed himself to calm down like he hadn’t just been through the most embarrassing moment in his life. He dried himself with a small towel and wrapped it around his waist hoping it would at least help conceal his waning erection long enough to get in the water.

When Soren finally stepped out from behind the privacy screen, Ike was staring up at the ceiling with a deep flush in his cheeks that certainly didn’t come from the steam. Soren sat on the edge of the marble tub and fumbled with pinning his hair up. He felt Ike’s head fall against his lower back.

“Sorry.” He said. Soren sighed.

“It’s fine.” He grunted. Ike hummed, then turned so he could hug Soren from behind.

“Are you taking that off?” He said, referring to the small towel around Soren’s waist.

“No.” Soren huffed. Ike chuckled against Soren’s side, and in one swift motion lifted him up and spun him around until Soren was chest deep in the water nestled between Ike’s thighs.

“H-hey!” Soren weakly protested, but Ike nuzzled his face against his bare neck. The towel around his waist rucked up and he squirmed uncomfortably.

“Shh,” Ike hushed, “Just relax.”

 “…I am, it’s just… this position makes it… _difficult_ to wash myself.” Soren griped.

“Mmhmm,” Ike let go of him just long enough to grab a nearby bottle and lather his hands. Soren took one look at those thick, foamy hands and froze, “Wha-what are you doing?”

“Washing.” Soren could _feel_ Ike’s grin against his neck.

Soren gulped.

Ike’s fingers slid over Soren’s shoulders and worked circles into his chest, pressing into his nipples like they weren’t extremely sensitive and Soren wasn’t jumping every time Ike’s thumbed them.

“Ike, this,” Soren swallowed, “This wasn’t what I meant.” Ike just chuckled and continued rolling his hands over Soren’s chest, down his arms and his sides – and when those fingers dipped beneath the water and a rough palm stretched across his belly, Soren gasped _._ “I-Ike wait… hnng…”

Ike’s hands slipped beneath Soren’s towel and massaged his thighs. The towel unfurled and Soren’s half-hard cock floated freely, dangerously close to Ike’s hands. Soren arched his back, gasping by Ike’s ear. On reflex he bucked his hips just close enough to the surface to reveal his rosy pink erection and Ike’s hands went right for it.

Gasping turned to poorly stifled moans as Ike stroked him experimentally. Soren keened and twisted enough to bite into Ike’s neck. It was Ike’s turn to groan. Soren’s heart was pounding.

At least Ike didn’t seem turned off by him.

Those strong fingers around the base of his cock trembled, but didn’t move.

“Soren…” Ike whispered and released his hold on Soren’s member, “I… um…”

“Ike?” Soren managed though heavy breaths. When Ike didn’t respond he let himself ease back in the water and turned to face him, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Nothing, I… just,” He looked uncertain and a little embarrassed, “I have _no_ idea what I’m doing.” Soren let out a snort, “Hey, don’t laugh! I’m serious.” Ike rubbed circles into Soren’s hips with his thumbs, “I’ve never done this before…”

“You’d never led an army to victory against a tyrant before either, and you did that just fine.” Soren beamed at him.

“Yeah but… I had you to help me with that.” Ike said.

“Mm, and you still have me to help with this.” Soren placed his hands on Ike’s chest. His heart beat was fast, much faster than Soren thought it would be. He felt brave, “I’ve never done this before either you know.” He said quietly.

“No?” Ike asked.

“Is that surprising?” Soren smirked.

“Well kinda. I mean,” Ike fiddled with the loose strands of hair falling down the back of Soren’s neck, “You’re… a lot of people wanted you, you know?” Soren chewed on his lower lip.

“Did you?” He asked.

Ike dropped his head to Soren’s shoulder and let out a long, drawn-out groan.

“Seriously, Soren?” He croaked, “Of course I did – do. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

Soren felt his chest swell with pride and a small laugh bubbled out of his throat.

“Is it anything like what you do to me…?” Soren breathed. He arched his body into Ike’s. He pressed their chests together, slick with soap and let his erection brush against Ike’s abdomen. Ike swallowed, eyes blown wide with want.

“…Fuck.” His grip on Soren tightened, breath fanning across their cheeks. The obvious desire plastered all over Ike’s face made Soren feel just the slightest bit bold.

“You want to…?” Soren whispered, lips grazing Ike’s as he spoke, “You can, you know.” He didn’t get response to his offer, just a pair of hungry, wet lips sliding over his and thick fingers digging into his back; big, big hands sliding lower and lower…

Soren parted his lips and swiped his tongue against the crease of Ike’s mouth. It opened eagerly. He dug his fingers into Ike’s hair and sucked that delicious tongue, moaning as he did so.

With a large splash Ike flipped them around, bending Soren over the edge of the bath and slipping between Soren’s parted thighs. They kept kissing, open mouthed and wet. Long legs locked around Ike’s waist and held him there.

“Fuck, Soren…” Ike groaned between fervent kisses. He bucked his dick against Soren’s balls; hard, sensitive flesh quivering at the unfamiliar friction and tiny sparks of pleasure.

They’d never done this before, not quite. Only once had they both been able to give in to their desires and drown in each other, but they had been fully clothed and too exhausted to do anything but touch. To feel skin on skin was a thrill neither had been expecting.

“I-Ike… ah!” Soren gasped with Ike’s tongue on his lips. His whole body buzzed with arousal, his pulse thrumming just beneath the skin.

Ike pulled away only to latch onto Soren’s neck, sucking huge, angry red marks into that pale, pale skin while Soren desperately tried to catch his breath.

It was fast; too fast and Soren’s neck was sensitive. Every nip of Ike’s teeth had him writhing in the water and desperate for something _more_. The cock grinding against his balls only teased the base of his own erection and made him crave for more friction.

He tried to sit up, to get his neck out of Ike’s reach, but that only provided Ike with a new target. That tongue went straight for one of Soren’s nipple, and before he could process what was going on Ike gave it a good suck.

He nearly shrieked at the jolts of pleasure that shot through him. Ike sucked him hard, his tongue flat against that little pink nub and teeth marking the surrounding flesh. It was nothing like the gentle ministrations from earlier. It was harsh, sharp and so, so good.

One hand held Soren up, the other slipped between them and pressed against their erections. Soren keened and bucked his hips.

“F-fuck – Ike, _wait_.” Soren choked out. Ike released Soren’s nipple with a wet smack.

“Wait?” He blinked, eyes half-closed and dazed.

“Yes, wait.” Soren’s chest was heaving as he collected himself.

“For what?” Ike growled. Soren placed his hands on Ike’s cheeks.

 A deep breath, maybe two.

“Take me to bed.” He said softly, bravely. Ike stared at him, lips parted in pleasant surprise.

“I thought you wanted a bath.” Ike teased. Soren bit his lip, but smiled back.

“I did,” He slid his hand down between them and dragged his finger along Ike’s swollen penis, “But I want this more and I want it on a bed.”

Ike grinned and kissed him again.

“You,” Another kiss, “Are gonna be the death of me.” And another, shorter, sweeter, “Your room or mine?”

“Mine.” Soren kissed Ike first this time.

\-----

Soren had no sooner dumped their clothing on the floor before Ike spun him around and pinned him to the bed with a kiss. Soren smiled into it and slid his hands around Ike’s bare back.

They hadn’t bothered to redress in more than the bare necessities after their bath, too eager to get each other to bed. Ike wasn’t sure why, but seeing Soren in nothing but loose cotton pants was incredibly hot. Somehow being partially dressed felt a bit more erotic than being completely naked.

Soren’s hands were everywhere on his back. Ike ground his hips against Soren’s clothed erection and shivered at the sounds that bled from his throat. He chased the sounds peppering kisses all over Soren’s lithe throat, nipping at it when it started to tremble with a breathless laugh.

Ankles hooked round his hips and suddenly Ike found himself on his back staring up at glowing red eyes and a playful smile Ike wanted to devour. When he tried, Soren pushed him back down.

“Stay put,” He murmured, pulling the pin from his hair and letting it fall about his shoulders. Ike didn’t dare disobey. He nodded, and watched in fascination as Soren slithered down his poorly dried body.

Then Soren’s lips grazed his clothed dick and Ike froze.

“Soren?” He croaked.

Soren hummed but didn’t say anything else. Instead, he pressed fingers into the base of Ike’s cock and mouthed what his hand couldn’t cover.

“Oh _fuck._ ” Ike swore. He propped himself up on his elbows and stared wide eyed at Soren’s shadowed figure between his thighs, “Soren?”

“Just let me do this for you.” Soren breathed against him. Ike swallowed hard and Soren’s mouth found its way back to his member. He licked, nipped and sucked along his length with slow, meticulous motions that had Ike breathing heavily. He was hard, painfully so, and when those pink lips closed over the head of his cock he saw stars.

Ike tugged Soren off of him by the hair and tried to tell him that the indirect stimulation was driving him crazy, but Soren just grinned at him and tugged at the waistband of Ike’s pants. His erection sprung free, thick, large, uncut and immediately under Soren’s tongue. He wrapped slender pale fingers around that cock and _pumped_.

Up, down, up, down, each stroke allowing that slick, pink head to peek out from beneath his foreskin. Ike’s head lolled backwards when Soren gave him a particularly long stroke and the bulbous head met suddenly met Soren’s enthusiastic tongue.

Ike gripped the sheets and groaned. That tongue was everywhere, swirling around the tip of his cock, dipping into it, then circling round beneath the bunched-up foreskin at the base of the head. Each movement calculated but still unpredictable and Ike was doing everything he could not to cum right then and there because it just felt so damn good –

And then Soren _sucked –_

And Ike came.

Long and intense, spasming and twitching against the roof of Soren’s sweltering mouth. His vision went black and his arms lost the strength to hold him upright. He bucked his hips into Soren’s mouth – still keenly sucking and pumping – powerful thighs shaking and toes curling from the sheer intensity of his orgasm.

Finally Soren released him and Ike lay gasping, wet and limp. He barely registered Soren slithering up his body until lips pressed themselves lightly to his and he realized that Soren _fucking swallowed._

“Fuck,” Ike gasped, “what… fuck, where did you learn that?” Soren hid beneath Ike’s jaw and kissed his adam’s apple.

“From you. Just now.” He said. Ike managed an airy laugh.

“…Damn good teacher you had. Haah…” He kissed Soren’s brand and felt the mage smile against his throat. “I wanna do you… but I don’t think I can move right now.” Soren sat up and stared down at Ike, moonlight. The shy smile on his lips a stark contrast to his bold moves from earlier.

“No need,” He said quietly.

“Huh? But you still haven’t…?” Ike’s brow furrowed.

“No, I mean… I’d like to try something else… if you’re ok with it.” Even in the dim light of the bedroom, Ike could make out the red flush on Soren’s cheeks. He brushed his knuckles against that bashful heat.

“I’m ok with anything you are.” He said. If he was being honest, Ike had very little knowledge on the intricacies of sex. During the time when he should have been learning and exploring those things, he was too preoccupied leading an army and trying not to die. He barely understood how sex worked with a woman, and he hadn’t even realized two men could have sex together until he met Kyza – and then had Ranulf explain Kyza to him.

It was the most awkward conversation of Ike’s life.

So whatever Soren wanted to do, Ike wanted to at least try it. If it was with Soren, anything was fine.

That did not, however, prepare him for the sight of Soren slicking his fingers with an oily vulnerary and slipping two of them into his ass, carefully perched on Ike’s abs with his pants bunched around his ankles.

It might have been the sexiest thing Ike had ever seen _._

He slid his hands up Soren’s thighs, a quiet encouragement to continue, and the tension slipped from Soren’s shoulders. He slipped one leg out of his trousers, and wow did Ike have a damn good view.

They slid in and out, slowly, deliberately, occasionally separating to spread his hole wider than Ike ever thought it could go. Even better than the view was the realization that Soren was enjoying himself, groaning each time he stretched himself just right.

The only problem was that Ike wasn’t a fan of just watching. He wanted to participate, make Soren feel good. That was the whole point of sex, right?

“Soren?” Ike asked, voice a little huskier than he was used to, “Vulneraries are edible, right?” Soren blinked down at him.

“I – yes? The ones we use are…” He said.

“Good.” Ike gripped Soren’s thighs and flipped him on his back. Soren let out an undignified shriek of surprise.

“Ike! What are you –” Soren stammered. Ike grinned down at him from between Soren’s knees.

“Experimenting.” He licked his lips and turned his focus to that slippery pink ring of muscle. “You seem to like it here.” He pressed his thumb experimentally against that rim and felt his cock twitch as the ring opened somewhat.

“Ike, you’re not going to…?” Soren covered his horrified face with his hands. Ike merely grinned and pressed his tongue to Soren’s hole.

It was slick and smooth and yielding. His tongue slipped inside with little effort even with Soren writhing beneath him. Ike lapped around the muscle, dipping his tongue deep inside and occasionally sucking around the entire hole whenever he bottomed out. Soren’s lustful cries and ragged breathing only spurred him on.

Ike didn’t want to stop, but his tongue was sore. He drizzled the vulnerary over Soren’s hole and felt his own cock twitch with excitement as he watched the viscous fluid drip down Soren’s length. Ike slipped a thick finger past that loosened ring of muscle relishing and sucked at Soren’s balls. Soren bit down on the bed sheets to stifle his pleasured moans as Ike fucked him slowly with one finger, then two.

Ike was erect again, his dick smearing precome all over Soren’s back. His hips bucked against that white skin while Soren chanted his name under his breath.

“Soren,” Ike sucked on the inside of Soren’s thigh, “Soren… I wanna make you come.” Soren’s head lolled back, chest heaving.

“One more –” Soren gasped, “–finger and then get inside me.” Ike obediently pushed a third finger into Soren’s hole, still sucking beet red marks onto his thighs.

“Inside?” He asked as he slowly fucked his lover with his fingers, “I’m already inside.” If Soren were in a condition where he could roll his eyes, he probably would have.

“No, I mean –” He strained to reach Ike’s dick, “– With this.” He whispered.

Ike’s eyes grew wide and his rhythm faltered.

“ _…Oh._ ” He said dumbly.

“Do… do you not want to? Because we don’t have to, I just thought maybe –” Ike cut in before he could finish.

“No! I mean, I do. I definitely do. I just didn’t… think… that was how it worked.” He slid his finger’s out and gently set Soren down, allowing himself to admire Soren’s finely shaped cock for the first time that evening.

“Didn’t think…? Ike, do you _not_ know how sex works between men?” Soren dragged his knees up Ike’s sides.

“Well, sorta? The explanation I got was a little hard to follow, but uh…” And it had been. Ranulf had been enthusiastic in his explanation but his terminology had been a mix of sound effects, weird hand gestures, and words used in contexts Ike had never considered.

He hadn’t bothered to ask for clarification.

Soren sighed and wrapped an arm around Ike’s neck and pulled him in for a slow, needy kiss.

“I want this …” He slid his free hand between them and caressed the full length of Ike’s hot length, “…inside of me.”

Ike shivered at the touch. He ground down against Soren’s dripping cock and kissed him again.

“Yeah?” He asked, voice trembling in anticipation.

“Yeah.” Soren gave him a rare, shy smile.

“Ok,” Ike smiled broadly, “Ok. Um, so do I…?” Soren fumbled for the bottle of oil and re-slicked his hands.

“Go slow, ok?” He whispered while massaging the oil into Ike’s dick. Ike pressed a small kiss to the inside of Soren’s wrist.

“Ok.” He said.

Ike laced their fingers together, lined himself up against Soren’s entrance, and _pushed._

It was all heat, slick and smooth, like butter and silk and every soft thing Ike could think of, swallowing his swollen cock like Soren swallowed his moans. Every small movement sent shocks of intense pleasure rushing through his body and setting his nerves ablaze with a deep yearning for _more._

He opened his eyes as he bottomed out, balls flush against slick hips, and met Soren’s hazy eyes.

“You alright?” Ike said hoarsely, willing his hips not to move whenever Soren twitched around him.

“ _Yes._ ” Soren breathed, “Move,” he gasped, “please.”

And he did.

Ike slid in and out of Soren, painfully slow but delighting in every sensation that consumed his cock. Soren took him like a pro, relaxing and tensing at all the right moments, lewd moans mixing with Ike’s pleasured grunts.

Ike wanted to fuck him hard, take him by the hips and pound into Soren until he was a sobbing mess, but he was close – _so close_ – and Soren felt so goddamned good around him that he didn’t want it to end.

But it was hard, so hard, to resist. His body shook with exertion, sweat glistening on his brow. He could go like that for hours just drowning himself deep inside Soren’s sweetness.

But Soren had other ideas. He wound his legs round Ike’s waist and bucked his hips until Ike bottomed out against his dripping rim. Soren whispered a command against Ike’s ear.

“I said move.”

And Ike’s resolve shattered.

He dove down to Soren’s neck and sunk his teach into tender flesh, sucking with a hunger usually reserved for an after battle meal. Soren yelped, but the uncontrollable bucking of his hips begged Ike to move.

So he did.

He gripped Soren’s hips and thrust against him until the only thing he could feel was Soren’s ass clenched round his dick. His breathing came out in short gasps and groans and all manners of sounds that he didn’t know he could make. He pressed their bodies together, sandwiching Soren’s dick between them, and continued to thrust recklessly into the sweet, sweet hole.

Ike fucked him, filled him, and Soren could do nothing but writhe and sob in pleasure. Words were a thing of the past. Communication happened only when their tongues connected and Soren’s hands carded through Ike’s hair and _tugged_.

And every now and again Soren would make the sweetest cry and Ike would desperately try to remember how he pulled that sound from his lover’s throat, thrusting at every possible angle until he got it just right –

Then Soren was coming hard against Ike’s stomach, semen smearing all over their chests as Ike continued to fuck him in just the right way. Soren could barely manage Ike’s name, too over-stimulated and Ike’s tongue too in love with his to let Soren speak.

It felt so good. Soren was tighter than ever and Ike couldn’t stop thrusting. That blissful rush filled his cock again, and again and again until it bordered on pain.

He wanted to come so bad. He wanted to fill Soren to the brim with his seed until he spilled over onto the sheets. He wanted that powerful, quivering form beneath him to be his and his alone. He wanted Soren to own him too, to lay claim to a so-called hero and love every second of it.

When those scarlet eyes opened and stared back into blue, Ike lost it.

He came hard, and fast. Pleasure ripped through his body like a storm leaving nothing but a pleasant numbness in its wake. His thrusts became shallow and jerky. He could feel his seed coating Soren’s velvety trembling insides. A couple weak bucks of his hips, and he bottomed out, soft, but still nestled deep inside.

He already wanted to fuck Soren again, but there was no way his shaking limbs would allow that so he settled for some slow, lazy kisses instead.

They stayed like that for some time, catching their breath and kissing between small, meaningful touches.

Ike was the first to regain his voice.

“…Wow.” His voice was hoarse, but damn he felt good all over. Soren tried to laugh but very little sound escaped his throat.

“Is that all you have to say?” He teased.

“No. I have a lot to say. Like, you were amazing, and I really want to do it again.” Ike said, lips against Soren’s neck. Soren cupped his face to meet his eyes, and Ike relished that expression of blissful pride.

“You can, you know.” He said. Ike laughed.

“Not yet I can’t.” He slipped out of Soren with a shiver, “I’m about to pass out.”

“…We need another bath.” Soren chuckled. Ike groaned and pulled Soren close against his chest.

“Later. Let’s sleep for now,” Ike brushed some hair away from Soren’s face, “Is that ok?” Soren looked like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it.

“Yeah, it is. I think we both earned a rest.” He sighed.

Ike knew they still had a lot to discuss. There were plans to be made and supplies to pack but they could wait; except for one thing. He had promised Elincia after all, and it’s not as if there would be a better time to keep it than now. He stroked Soren’s hair, and ignored the uneven stutter of his heart.

“Hey Soren…?” He said.

Soren hummed, probably dozing off and only half listening in his state of post-coital bliss. Still, Ike wanted to say it.

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...And now to finish 99th year. If you haven't read that fic yet, now is a good time to start. While the two stories are standalone, they are technically part of the same overarching story.
> 
> And that was my shameless plug. I'm gonna go, I dunno, bury my head in the sand or something.


End file.
